Lying To Themselves
by vwisbey
Summary: So this is my first fanfiction and I'm not sure, but we will find out. This is set in season three, but I do not see any major spoilers to come. Molly and Sherlock have been lying to themselves about their feelings, but what happens when he burst in to Barts will change almost everything. This is definitely rated M, because there will be steamy smut to come. Please enjoy
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone who has decided to try my writing, I shall start with the typical warnings. This is my FIRST fanfiction and I have tried my hardest to not have Sherlock or Molly OC, but I assume that is something I will get better at. I do apologies if I being to not make sense or tangents, so PLEASE feel more than WELCOME to send me reviews or PMs with helpful criticism or ideas. I'm not going to upload the second chapter to this story, until I feel confident that this isn't the ramblings of a crazied fangirl.**

**My biggest apologies for BAD grammar or anything like that. Do let me know if you find mistakes or have tips for first time writers.**

**Chapter One**

From time to time Molly's mind did fantasise over the man that so causally stood in her way demanding to see the John Doe's body from this mornings crime scene. Rather than taken in the words that fell from his perfect mouth she just watch them move with each word. Molly had to violently shake her head so that she would not fall into the trap of day dreaming about Sherlock Holmes, especially in his presence.

"Molly!" Sherlock almost screamed at her with utter frustration and annoyance, although Molly did discern a hint of confusion in his voice. "I need to see the John Doe from this morning. Now only if you could actually comprehend what I said and do what I asked we could both be doing something more enjoyable."

Moly caught on the sprinkle of humour in his voice that was stirred in with all the arrogance and annoyance at her. His comment last comment did cause Molly to immediately feel the warmth of her blood rushing to her face causing her to blush. Molly's mind became flustered and overact with the suggestive comment Sherlock had made. Even if it was in jest and was ludicrous to think that he meant anything seductive by it.

She was a professional women who could not let an unrealistic fantasy of a man get in the way of that. Molly was starting to move from her lab in to her morgue, when she caught the face of Sherlock. Sherlock was abnormally attractive not only to her, but she suspected to many of the women around London that read or watch him on the telly. His hair was long, (compared to the average male hair length for his generation), curly and has the deepest shade of brown that sat just before jet black. His eyes were mysterious at the moment they were a fresh sea green shade, but when his mood changed so did the shade. The strangest, and sexiest according to Molly, part of Sherlock's face was his abnormally high and sharp cheek bones.

Molly's gaze at Sherlock hadn't lasted five seconds, but she had taken all that she needed. When she turned away she noticed that Sherlock was running his eyes over her face as well, but she could not determine why. _Keep moving before you make a complete idiot put of yourself_. Molly abused herself as she speed up her pace towards the morgue.

Sherlock was slightly behind her when she pushed the doors of the morgue open. Before she had a second to remind herself what she was here for she was already removing the John Doe from the refrigerator cabinet.

The woman that laid on the cold metallic slate, that Molly pulled out of the cabinet, stereotypically beautiful. Molly mentally noted that she reminded her of Gemma Arterton from the action flick "Clash of Titan", which was a waste of her time. As Molly begun to feel a sliver of envy at this women for her beauty she remembered that she was dead and in the presence of Sherlock so she had to get thoughts and emotions in check. _This 'man' can read you like a open book._ She reminded herself with a spite full inner tone.

"She is quiet boringly beautiful, isn't she?" He said innocently.

Confused by the juxtaposed adjectives and out of character statement Molly was unsure whether to answer that question or not. Molly decided against her crushing ego to answer with a question of her own. "Yes she is beautiful, but what do you mean boringly beautiful?"

"She is obliviously beautiful and there is no question to it, hence the fact I find it boring." Sherlock rambled off in his usual factual tone that saw absolutely no indication of interest.

Molly understood what Sherlock had meant. She wanted to desperately wanted to interrogate him on what he finds non-boring beauty to be, but she knew better. Instead she nodded and professionally began informing him of her findings. "So, she died at approximately six pm last night from a slash from a knife that served her Carotid artery. She was in prestige health before her death and her last meal was from a ridiculous expensive resturant. She had not had sexual intercourse or consumed any alcohol the night she killed and she was not pregnant."

Sherlock stood looking at Molly for a good few seconds after she had finished and she had wondered if he had listened to a single word that came out of her mouth, but as she went to open her mouth to abuse him Sherlock started to scan the body in front of him.

**A/N: Please do leave me a review to help me, but I do apologies for to much OC to come or present.**

**Smut will be on it's way so don't quit yet..please? :P  
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	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock had determined over the few years that he had known Molly that the sexiest part about her was the way she would blush. The redness in her cheeks and the slight embarrassment in her eyes was beautiful to him and he found it hard to keep his body in check because of it. _Get over it!_ He abused his body. As Molly begun to move in to the morgue, she ritually turned her head to the side to check that he was following behind him. As she completed this ridiculous tradition that she was completed every time he joined her and Sherlock found himself examining Molly more intensely than before. Sherlock found that Molly's hair was oddly out and draped across her shoulders and rested on her breasts. Sherlock found himself thinking about what he would be like to passionately kiss her soft looking lips and to hold her face in his hands. Once again he abused himself and his body for thinking about Molly in such a sexual context. _You are on a case, so bloody behave._

Sherlock realised that after his 'death' and 'rebirth' that he was reverting more and more in to a normal human being. Those humans that feel sentiment or who cannot separate their needs into a box and discard them. Sherlock hated himself for this. He knew that with everything that happened between the people in his life before and after he died there was going to be major change for him because he missed them over his two year 'death'. Especially, sweet Molly.

By the time that thought had passed through Sherlock's mind Molly had begun to make her way to the morgue. Sherlock trailed slightly behind her. Just enough to admire her loose white lab that sat perfectly on her shoulders and hips. The coat ran smoothly over her butt and bounced with every step just above her knee. As Molly took each step Sherlock could see a bit more of the back of her thigh, until two thoughts hit him like a truck simultaneously. First, Molly was wearing something shorter than her lab coat and this thought created a lump in Sherlock's throat. Secondly, that if she turned around the expression of desire on his face would be horrifyingly embarrassing for him and it is highly inappropriate during a case. _What case?_ He thought to himself, considering he had solved it earlier and was just using it as an excuse to see Molly.

Sherlock was still berating himself when he noticed Molly pull the Jane Doe out of the storage area and stand on the opposite side of the tray. He looked one at the woman that Molly had gathered at his request. He noticed that Molly was examining the face of the deceased woman with a expression of what he determined to be as jealously.

In an attempt to initiate idle chit chat he began to comment on his opinion of the Jane Doe, "She is quiet boringly beautiful, isn't she?"

Molly's face was plagued with a confused expression and her deep brown eyes displayed an emotion that he had placed there way to many times, hurt. _Why was she hurt?_ As per usual, Sherlock was confused by the array of human emotions that Molly displayed in their regular work interactions. When Molly reconstructed her self she said "Yes she is, but what do you mean by boringly beautiful?"

Sherlock wasn't completely sure what typical beauty was and that made it harder to make his response believable. "She is obliviously beautiful and there is no question to it, hence the fact I find it boring." Sherlock attempted to keep the most factual and bored tone he could muster in hope Molly would buy it.

Sherlock focused his attention on the body that lifelessly laid in front of them. Considering he and already solved the case he was finding it hard to focus on the facts that was coming out of Molly's mouth, but instead he found himself distracted by why his comment on the Jane Doe would hurt her. Before he was able to come to a conclusion her mouth had stopped moving and she was beginning to look angry and frustrated. Sherlock decided that she must of thought he wasn't listening, which he wasn't but he didn't want her to know, so he begun to examine the body in front of him.

After a short time of examining the body Molly was beginning to fidget and distract him. This was frustrating for Sherlock, although he could not pin point the emotional reason why Jane Doe had committed suicide due to finding her long term partner cheating on her with her sister. As he uselessly scanned the body, Molly gave up waiting and abruptly blurted her thoughts.

"What do you find beautiful Sherlock?" As she said this Sherlock looked up at her and found that Molly was breathing erratically and she was staring down at her hands which were clenched on to the metal bed.

This was to emotional for Sherlock Holmes therefore he decided to not address the question at hand, but handle the solved case and then maybe he would answer he.

"This slash to her neck was self inflicted, which is odd considering it isn't the most preferred method of suicide among women, but she was desperate to end her life. After she had found her long term partner cheating on her with her younger and more beautiful sister. She had a disposition to depressive outburst, when she was a teenager she had attempted suicide via the overdosing on…"

Sherlock trailed off, because when he looked up at Molly he saw two expressions melded on her face. Disappointment and confusion. Sherlock had not stop for long, but Molly was curious enough to want answers. "How do you know that her sister was more beautiful?"

Sherlock was very use to the 'how' question when it came to his skills, but it was very rare that anyone who was so close to him bothered to ask anymore. To this he would either have to lie or tell the truth and tell Molly why he was there. Just as he finished weighing up his options he hear John Watson's voice roll around his mind._ Do not deceive someone you care deeply about_. He almost verbally told this voice to shut up, but thankfully remembered that Molly was inquisitively staring into his eyes.

"I met her sister today when I was wrapping the case up for Lestrade and she was much more boringly attractive than she was. Her name was Georgia Bell and she resided in south-east Lond…"

"Why?"

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**A/N: Hey guys, I am back. I know it has been only a couple of hours since my first update, but so many people have (to my surprise) thoroughly enjoyed what I have already posted.**

**I would make a massive shout out and thank all the people who have reviewed, read, favourited and followed my work. Please continue to feel free to send all and any criticism to me via reviews or PM. And if you have an ideas for another story or plot direction (that you are not willing to write yourself) send them to me :)**

**I am completely stunned by the response I have received and once again thank-you...I estimate approximately two more chapters before the smut begins. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Valentine's Day everyone, so I have decided that adjust the course of this story, no dramatic changes, but I do want to delve more in to the imitate and work relationships of Molly, Sherlock and John. It is still pure Sherolly. I hope you guys are still enjoying this :)**

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"_Why?"_

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Molly could not believe that Sherlock was standing in her morgue wasting her time when she could be doing anything else. She could have been enjoying the company of some handsome man that she could fake interest in. _Who am I kidding?_ She hated when the realistic voice in her heard is right, although night was different.

"Why? What?" Molly wanted to cause physical harm to Sherlock for the snide tone that he used.

Instead of replying Molly shot Sherlock a look that clear stated "you know what' and in the same fraction of a second pushed the Jane Doe's body back into storage. The faintest hint of defeat spread across his distinct features before he opened his mouth to explain himself. "I was just tying up loose ends and making sure my initial deductions were fact."

"Try again" Molly knew that Sherlock was so confident in his deductions that he did not require factual reassurance. "Strike one, two more and I'm out of here."

Molly knew that when it came to cultural references Sherlock did not care for them or pay attention to them, so when he looked confused it was an expected reaction. "I – uh what? Never mind. I was bored and all my experiments are finished..."

"Strike two." Molly was getting more and more frustrated with his lying and she mirrored that in her tone. Sherlock had come in last night to _borrow_ a set of hands to experiment on and because a case had turned up she knew he had not begun experimenting.

"Sherlock, I have a life remember and I had plans tonight. So I swear to god if you lie to me one more time I will throw you and never grant you access to the lab without Lestrade or John holding your hand like the child you behave like." Molly was surprised at herself for making such an empty threat, but she was at least telling the truth about having plans tonight.

"I know you had plans tonight..."

Molly wasn't all that angry when Sherlock was lying to her face mostly because she expected it from him. That all changed when he said he was aware that he was screwing with her plans rather than the minor detail that he hopefully missed and John had not shared. Molly came to decision, last week, that on Valentine's Day this year she would not be alone even if that meant a blind date John had set up with some guy called Tom. Molly felt the rage inside her almost boil over and she had no intentions of hiding it for this disgraceful man. _But do NOT cry_. Molly demanded of herself. Sherlock had seen enough of her tears and it never stopped him saying ridiculously harmful words.

"...from the way your hair is out which is different compared to your normal style, slight amount of make-up and the fact your lab coat is longer than the outfit you have on. Therefore I came to the conclusion that you were either attempting to display a _successful_ level of your sex appeal to the morgue or had plans." Sherlock's voice came back into Molly's conscious train of thought when she realised that he was deducing her, but the look on his face was different to the calculating one he held when deducing her normally.

"Sherlock Holmes, Do you _even_ know what day it is?"

"It is Friday." Sherlock's voice was riddled with sarcasm. Molly would feel the anger rise up her body from her feet. Molly could feel Sherlock's stare on the top of her head as she refocused her attentive stare at her feet. "Ooh, yeah it is Valentine's day or something equally stupid, isn't it?"

_Slap!_

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**A/N: Only Sherlock could hurt someone so badly on Valentine's Day. Hopefully this is not be the only post I have done by the end of the day and I'm sorry to add hurt today, but this will definitely change by the time I'm done today. Romance is always better after a heart ache. :P**

**Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to read this and thank you so much to all the lovely people who have reviewed my story and please remember to keep them coming even if you think my story is horrible.**

**I hope everyone got spoiled today by their partners. :)**

**Sorry again for the change in direction that will occur but I hope you will all enjoy it. And let me know if you think it is too odd or weird that I have used John Watson to bring Dr Molly Hopper and Tom together? I wasn't sure, either PM or review whatever is easier. I'm sorry for the short chapter, but like I said I'm planning on this not being the only one I post today.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys I'm so sorry I have been MIA for so long and it left you on a horrible way, but I'm back and once again I'm terribly not sure about the characters or my story. SO pretty pretty please review. I will apologise in advance I have recently gotten back to university so my update schedule will be…we'll there probably won't be a schedule. Sorry :(**

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_Slap!_

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The sound of Molly's hand slapping Sherlock's defining cheek bounced off the walks of the empty morgue. Sherlock turned from being calculated and controlled to a stunned mullet. "What the…" Sherlock trailed off after placing his left hand upon his assault cheek.

Before he could gather his thoughts and rebuttal Molly had turned on her heels and walked away to in her laboratory. Sherlock took a moment to refocus and decide that his opinions of Valentines Day don't matter plus he upset his pathologists_…His Molly_. The butterflies and nausea that builds in his stomach with this deduction cause him to freeze momentarily before coming to a false conclusion. That he would lose access to the laboratory at St. Bart's. It was a bull shit excuse and he knew it, but it gave him the motivation to follow Molly through her laboratory and in to her office.

Sherlock leant against the door frame of Molly's cramped office. Sherlock could not see Molly but he knew she was in here. Molly's office was very bare and only contained the essentials. Her desk was facing the door. It was placed about a foot from the wall and was very small with a very uncomfortable looking chair pushed in. No computer on the desk newly made messy piles of paperwork, _that is unlike_ her and Molly's handbag. Her office also contained two filing cabinets at each corner of the back wall and beautiful succulent pot plant in the third vacant corner. Sherlock's quick observations were cut short by the distant sobbing of his pathologists.

"Sherlock will you just fuck off…you have caused me enough pain tonight." Molly's voice was basically a whisper through he sobs, but Sherlock was astounded by her and how much he had done.

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_Sherlock FUCKING Holmes, do not come in!_

Molly knew that telepathic talents did not exist, but god did she hope that they did for a moment there. Molly knew that Sherlock had heard her tell him to fuck off and her sobbing, but she could not care for it at the moment. She thought that Sherlock would not be able to handle her emotions and do what she demanded, but Molly was surprised when she see the lean figure of Sherlock Holmes staring down at her. Molly sat against the cold wall behind her desk in order to hide from Sherlock so he would leave, but instead of leaving he came looking for her and now instead of looking down at her Sherlock was lowering himself down to the ground so he could sit next to her.

"What do you want? To make me feel worse?" Molly basically spat out the words in Sherlock's general direction.

"I never intended on hurting you." Molly was certain that Sherlock sounded like a innocent boy who was not aware of impact of his words. "I never do"

The innocents in Sherlock's voice made Molly confused. Molly looked through her watery eyes at Sherlock and before she could say anything she momentarily gagged because Sherlock's close proximity to her. He sat so close to Molly that their thighs were touching which is odd for Sherlock. Molly noticed that he had his head drooping forward in shame. _What the hell this is not normal._

Before Molly could truthfully speak her mind Sherlock began to speak.

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Molly's legs felt warm against his. Sherlock not phased, but encouraged by their closeness to tell her how he was feeling. Sherlock could feel Molly's eyes fall on his thigh and the move to his face. Sherlock knew that the guilt he felt was plastered across his face, but he could not care because he was with Molly.

Sherlock stared into Molly's devastated blue eyes and attempted to provide a look of comfort. It must of worked because Molly responded with a lame nod of her head.

Once Molly had regained control, by what Sherlock had been able to determine, he felt the butterflies rumble again in his stomach. _Just do it!_

"You may infuriate me, but I find you to be quiet addictive and puzzling. You know as well as anyone else that I **hate** not knowing, but I like not knowing everything about you. You surprise me and I find that to be utterly frustrating." Sherlock's sight was no on Molly throughout the beginning of his speech, but when he let himself look at her he saw to many emotions. Anger. Desire. Admiration. Frustration. Relief. "Molly, I want to be frustrated by you more often andI think I'm feeling love for you."

Sherlock was not completely sure if he was saying the right things, but he justified his words by the fact she deserved the truth and no more pathetic excuses. Sherlock found himself locked on to Molly's eyes and found comfort in her eyes. This comfort was enough evidence for Sherlock that he had said the right thing.

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**Ooooo a step in the right direction. please do review I found this chapter to be my most concerning so ANY feedback would be awesome.**

**And I do apologise for my lack of future and past updating, but please do tag along if you enjoyed it.**


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